


Remember the Reason

by fragilevixen



Series: The Little Redhead [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Christmas Eve, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, Post-Season/Series 11, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21895255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilevixen/pseuds/fragilevixen
Summary: Post Series. Mulder and Scully already knew that life with a newborn would be difficult but the first Christmas with their two-month-old daughter throws every curveball…some worse than others, some more humorous.“I do like Christmas on the whole…In its clumsy way, it does approach peace and goodwill. But it is clumsier every year.” – E.M. Forster
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: The Little Redhead [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577191
Comments: 38
Kudos: 66
Collections: X-Files Secret Santa Fanfic Exchange (2019)





	Remember the Reason

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Underworld_Vampires](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underworld_Vampires/gifts).



> I am not completely undoing the events of MSIV but, instead, am adjusting it to a viable situation that would have explained Mulder and Scully as genetic parents who were taken sincere advantage of. Eliana Grace is a name I have used before, if you’d like to read that fic, I’ll leave a link to it at the end notes.
> 
> Jen, I know you wanted pregnancy but the baby was meant to be born in October via the timeline of the series. I didn’t want an eleven-month long pregnancy so I hope that you don’t mind this minor augmentation to your prompt.
> 
> **fixed the clerical error on dates**

_It’s not what’s under the_

_Christmas tree that matters,_

_It’s who’s around it…_

-Charlie Brown

December 23rd 2018, 5:30 PM

The Unremarkable House

227700 Wallis Road

Farrs Corner, VA

It was quiet, probably too quiet, as Scully slowly, gently maneuvered her sleeping angel into the rocking bassinet with the velvety sides and mesh sections that made her easy to see from far away. Her tufts of curls, slightly darker than her own at that age, were a mess but she didn’t care as she ran her index along the swirls of shimmering cinnamon and apple, watching her stir just a little. The cherubic pink had replaced that deepened red that had dawned those cheeks the moment she came into the world—after having the hospital staff contemplating whether or not she wanted to make her grand entrance. Everyone was unsure of her readiness to come out…everyone, that is, except Mulder and Scully, who did their best not to lose their minds as their second battened downed the hatches in an attempt to settle in for the winter. Luckily, Mom and Dad won the only battle that mattered and their seven pound, two ounce, fire haired little screamer made her debut with her fists gripped and toes splayed.

She represented so much more than love in a tiny package as her features, fittingly, stood out to everyone in the room as little bits of her parents in harmony.

“Sleep…Eliana Grace,” Scully’s thumb grazed the wiggling pout of her two-month-old in the bassinet, her tiny fingers gripping the silky blanket as she stretched her feet and let out a monstrous toot. “Good gravy…you’re worse than your father.”

Scully didn’t want to tempt fate as she felt the diaper, peeking ever so gently, for anything extra just as a thud came from the space above the porch, followed by the scattered profanity and the squeaking slam of the ladder as it bounced off of the gutter. She sighed in spite of herself and glanced at the barely disturbed infant as she only raised both arms above her head before settling back against the soft, cushioned interior. Scully was already imagining the worst as she tiptoed backwards, toward the door, carrying the monitor with her despite the close proximity to the living room she actually was. Mulder’s shenanigans had been ongoing—the stuff of a comedy show, only Scully wasn’t laughing.

This had been part of a seemingly continuous pattern for a week and the last, destructive incident was Mulder dropping all of the ornaments in front of their highly unamused baby as she attempted to nurse.

Scully opened the door and found him, hanging by a single ankle, precariously dangling by six strings of lights, blinking in slow succession as he spun around in his snow boots. “…Oh, Mulder.”

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t seen me in worse predicaments,” Mulder’s arms flailed and the smirk faded to a grimace as he tried to reach one of the upright posts for leverage.

“Do I even want to know how you did that?” Scully crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame as she propped the screen door open with her foot, hand still gripping a baby monitor.

“I imitated Clark W. Griswold and did a damn fine job of it, if I do say so, myself,” Mulder helplessly dragged his fingers along the top step of the covered porch and let out a low, irritated growl as he swung the opposite direction. “I just need…to get the angle on the dangle and…Bob’s your uncle…”

“Or you could, I don’t know, ask the mother of your child to help you instead of being a typical, stubborn man?” Scully glanced over her shoulder, at the picture of peace in the form of a chubby-cheeked, little doll as she stretched her toes out from underneath the blanket. “Before said iron lungs decides to let us both know how displeased she is.”

Mulder sighed and nodded from the uncomfortable angle, the snow falling at strange angles along the curve of his backside. “I was almost done up there and it was starting to look like something really special.”

Scully pushed a pair of his old boots in front of the door, preventing it from swinging shut and stepped into the cold air with her robe tied shut. “You’re something really special, Mulder, and you could’ve killed yourself doing what you’re doing without anyone to help you.”

“Supervise,” Mulder knew his boyish charm was only going to get him so far as he felt the loop giving around his ankle before Scully could fully secure her capable yet delicate fingers around his calf. “I was moving around like a gazelle and then—“

“The donkey in you took over?” Scully smirked and gave his boot a hefty pull, directing the rest of him onto the painted finish near the front stoop with a thud. “Now, _that’s_ how I like my Mulder.”

“Showing off his agility and rugged skills?” Mulder grunted, rolled onto his knees and made a distinctively baby-esque cooing sound as his back popped. “Ahh, yes, that’s the ticket.”

“No,” Scully swatted him on the rear with his own boot as he stood, winking in his direction as she stole a quick peek at the sleeping babe again. “One less article of clothing to fight with and in a compromised position.”

“Think we can get away with that tonight after we watch a movie?” Mulder could see the top of the bassinet from his vantage point as he pulled the snow boot back on and got back to his feet, that same, alluring grin across his lips as he looked at Scully. “Or is Eliana channeling her Grandma Teena and waking over at the smallest twitch of noise?”

“She’s been out like a light for about ten minutes but with her track record? Anything is possible,” Scully was on her tiptoes at the edge of the steps, glancing up at the hanging mess of lights in a seven or eight foot section that remained. “Is this all you have left or were you trying to do more?”

“I just need to secure that section I was dangling from to the edge of the porch and I’m done,” Mulder sunk into the snow as he went into the half-buried yard to tug the ladder back to an upright position, resuming the last section of work on the lights. “It’s too bad Eliana isn’t older—she’d appreciate all of this.”

“She may not see things in fantastic detail yet, Mulder, but she sees things and is fascinated by each and every one,” Scully bit down on her lip and leaned against the top of railing, catching a few snowflakes in the palm of her hand as they fell. “We’ll have to bundle her up and bring her outside so she can see how Daddy almost popped his hip out of the socket.”

Mulder winked at her from near the top of the ladder, his hand guiding the strand with a careful precision. “You should get back inside before those little feet of yours get colder than they already are ninety-nine percent of the time…I’ll finish up this last strand and make us some cocoa.”

“Try not to fall again,” Scully lingered along the edge of the top step, her hand on the railing while the other held the upper edge of her robe closed with the monitor as chilly, shimmering flakes dotted into her hair. “Are you picking the movie or am I?”

“You pick tonight and I’ll pick tomorrow…” Mulder winked down at her before resuming the task at hand while she disappeared into the house.

Scully pushed the door shut, gently waiting until it clicked into place and the stained glass cast its subtle glows across the floor. Scully smiled at the smallest of gestures that Mulder had made since the pregnancy had been announced—the replacement of the front door with one that had rippling, painted glass and four, white doves flying in the corner of one pane no bigger than an inch each. He never said it out loud but she knew exactly who each represented, without a shadow of a doubt. One day, Eliana would know their stories and would come to appreciate the women that she never had the chance to meet. The day Mulder installed the door was one of the last days that Scully tried to blame her onslaught of tears on the pregnancy but the silent ones from Mulder simply instilled in her that she no longer wanted to hide that emotion.

Not from him, anyway. Not this time.

Scully watched as the light and shadow danced from behind the glass with each squeak of the ladder beneath Mulder’s feet, quietly contemplating their chaotic, poorly executed Christmas as it was managing to be pleasant in spite of the falling dominos. Scully kicked her slippers toward the stairs, pushing them against the row of boots and shoes as she set the monitor back on the table behind the couch. Eliana hadn’t so much as stirred in the minutes that had gone by as Scully came around to steal another look at her as she slept. She craved moments of clarity as she looked down at that little face, imagining what it would’ve been like to have seen their miracle of a boy experience even half of what she would—with both of them there to witness every second.

The thought of guilt passed through her consciousness, fleeting and quick, as Eliana’s little fingers stretched out and coiled again, a hum of a sigh passing into the air. Scully didn’t dare pull the blanket back over Eliana, opting to wrap her fingers around the edge of the bassinet, returning it to a dull swaying motion. The heavy thud of the ladder snapping closed had Scully glancing in the direction of the door, fully expecting to hear a grunt or yelp to follow. Mulder had already demonstrated that this time of year was living up to the meaning of the word hell but was putting in the kind of effort that had Scully close to a coronary from him showing off. She still hadn’t figured out why he was doing it all—Eliana was still too little to care about lights or a tree and Scully herself hadn’t actively decorated in years.

Not since there was a drooling baby boy to stare up at the angel tree topper as though it were going to fly down to take him around the room.

“You forgot to turn on the tree lights,” Mulder’s voice came from the kitchen, ushering in the wafting chill from outside as he pushed the back door closed.

Scully pressed her lips together, turning slow as Mulder stood in front of the sink, pulling off his gloves. “I was about to—but I found myself lost in a deep thought.”

“Thinking about him?” Mulder was slow to approach after removing his coat and boots to dry next to the edge of the counter, his digits still frozen as he reached for Scully’s waistline from behind. “I think about him, too.”

“I know that our chance at showing him how much we could have loved him was stolen from all of us…but I can’t help but think that he’s always known he had two people out there that would’ve moved heaven and earth for him,” Scully closed her eyes as Mulder’s palms enveloped the top of her hands, drawing her into an embrace as her back pressed against his chest. “I just hope he knows.”

Mulder kissed the top of her head, the crackling of a fire in their recently renovated fireplace barely audible above the electrical hum of their plethora of household devices as he held Scully close. “I’ve had the same dream since we left that pier…of him climbing from the water, safe, as close to free of trauma as one could expect, under the circumstances. He’s always muttering the same phrase as he is walking away. _You believed in every lie and forgot about me._ I always wake up immediately.”

“I don’t know what it says about us but I have had that same dream, Mulder,” Scully didn’t want to turn their evening into a melancholy nightmare but it was tugging at her heart as Mulder crossed the room to flick a switch, illuminating their six and a half foot tree. “You don’t believe the dreams are coincidental at all, do you?”

“I don’t want to watch the last of our miracles run dry, Scully,” Mulder adjusted an ornament with Eliana’s name scrawled in gold calligraphy, glittered with a little print of her foot below it and glanced back at Scully as she wiped an errant tear. “…but, maybe there’s hope?”

Those words had once been a comfort from his lips in the air of a cheap motel as both faced another round of pain, a piece of each of their souls glaringly absent. Scully had spent far too long ruminating over the loss without her other half breathing the same, proximal oxygen—Mulder took on far more than the brunt of the sadness, even in his silence, but it started with that phrase. Hope. It became their silent mantra even as years marched on and developed an odd sort of grace that cemented what they had always known…that a revelation never needed to come from a great aligning of the planets or a shining light from the sky. An answer whispered through the changing wind, in the form of an unlikely, latent pregnancy that gave them so much more than a second chance.

“I needed that,” Scully smirked and watched him as he moved into the kitchen, his bare feet tapping along the flooring with every step. “Are we having cocoa and leftovers tonight?”

“Sounds like a good idea since I have no intention of risking another smoke detector incident while we’re catching a rare moment of Ellie sleeping for longer than thirty minutes,” Mulder gathered plates, their leftovers, and mugs, turning just slightly to grin and wiggle his brows at her, “Didn’t go spiking the breastmilk by sneaking a couple sips of whiskey, right?”

Scully let out an incredulous laugh as she thumbed through the movies in their modest collection, glancing at the multi-colored lights on the tree for a moment, admiring their effort in spite of the general lack of gifts underneath. “Don’t think I haven’t contemplated doing just that a time or two. You keep putting it where it would require a step stool for me to get unassisted.”

“What time were Bill and Tara supposed to be landing in the morning?” Mulder mixed the cocoa while the microwave hummed, his back to Scully while she made the decision on the movie choice. “I have a feeling he’ll be shocked over the lights on the house.”

“He’ll make a body swapping joke,” Scully joined him in the kitchen, pulling a stash of mini marshmallows from the cupboard to layer along the top of each cup. “He’ll claim it’s for your benefit but it’s really because he thinks he’s funny.”

“If he doesn’t use the word _assimilate_ , it doesn’t count,” Mulder gathered the plates and followed her into the living room, glancing just slightly at the snow falling outside as the glow from the lights on the roof shimmered through the flakes. “Did you pick the movie?”

“I did, now let’s just see how long that one decides to let us watch it,” Scully gestured toward the gently rocking bassinet, their little, sleeping girl looking more angelic than any winged creature clad in white. “She hasn’t been this peaceful since we brought her home…”

“The moment that you had our boy in your arms, I never imagined that I’d see anything more perfect,” Mulder lingered beside the fluffy fringe that kept her safe, holding his plate as Scully sank against the cushions. “Then we made her.”

Scully beamed with her leftovers propped across her lap admiring the love of her life as he stood between her and their baby, his eyes full of so much adoration. “Come sit down and, at least eat, before she decides to stop being so cute and scream for milk…you know it’s coming.”

“So, what did you pick?” Mulder sighed as he found comfort in the well-worn spot next to her, leaning against the fluffy, decorative pillow next to the arm rest. “I’m going to feel like a ninety-year-old man in the morning.”

“ _Scrooged_ ,” Scully smirked as she pressed the play button and listened to the wind howl through the chimney while the flames flickered, the wood crackled, and the smells of Christmas filled their little home.

_Although it’s sad to_

_Reminisce on Christmases_

_We knew, this year I shall_

_Celebrate in memory of you._

-Unknown

December 24th 2018, 6:30 AM

Wintertime in Farrs Corner had become an extended stay in a secluded, private cabin as the years trotted on while Mulder gathered another haul of wood in a brass case with a hefty handle that had begun to squeak with use. Mother Nature buried them in another layer of snow overnight, erasing all traces of his tumble from the roof as he glanced toward the end of the drive while re-covering the stack of wood along the side of the house. It had gotten obscenely cold during the night and Mulder knew that keeping a more generous stockpile of wood inside would be key to keeping the family warm for the next few days as the wintry weather continued to pile it on. He pushed his way into the house and knocked the door shut with the curve of his heel just as Scully came around the corner with Eliana cradled close, latched onto a breast. Scully was tired but the smile wasn’t forced as she rubbed her moderately fussy baby’s back and rocked her gently while angling to steal a kiss from Mulder.

“Is that round two already?” Mulder smirked and headed toward the fireplace, carefully stacking the wood along the metal stand to conceal it.

“Daddy forgets that you’re a growing girl and every two hours is perfectly normal,” Scully still wasn’t used to seeing her smile but, even with a mouthful of boob, there she was, grinning and getting breastmilk everywhere giving off the notion that she understood every word from her mother’s lips. “Pretty funny, huh?”

“Am I missing her smiling again?” Mulder peeked around from the front of the fireplace, a rounded log in his hand as he pushed around the remnants of hot coals in the bottom.

“Yeah, but she’s making a mess in the process, too,” Scully rolled her eyes as she adjusted her grip on Eliana and sat down on a chair, crossing a leg as she mopped up the stray drops of milk. “Keeps releasing suction to grin…”

“Her middle name isn’t Grace for nothing,” Mulder moved the iron screen back into place, the crackling of the fire increasing as the flames reached higher. “That should start pushing out some serious heat soon.”

Scully had a suffering cup of cocoa on the side table along with a dampened burp rag while Eliana’s Christmas themed onesie, socks, and jumpsuit peeked out beneath the cozy blanket that had been in her bassinet. She was ridiculously festive and was, without a doubt, dressed by her father this morning. There was no focus for Eliana as she turned her head completely and created just enough draft against Scully’s skin to cause gooseflesh to ignite across every inch of her back. Scully maneuvered with her wiggly, messy haired girl and propped her against her shoulder while she re-hooked the nursing bra, returning her situation to a semblance of decency in the middle of the room. Eliana let out a loud, ear piercing squeal and sigh as Scully moved her again, positioning her for a proper burp.

“Don’t yell at me, you’re clearly not interested in eating anymore,” Scully chuckled as she patted the center of Eliana’s back and scooted forward, keeping her backside secure as the cooing came out in odd, stuttered bursts. “Daddy, someone can see you.”

“I just look like a bunch of big blobs from here,” Mulder had a cheesy grin on his face as he turned around, the tiny features of his daughter staring in his direction as Scully was doing the procedure for a post-milk burping. “She’s going to smile and then spit up…I’ll put money on it.”

“That doesn’t count if she’s getting burped, Mulder,” Scully could feel the wetness of her own breastmilk along the side of Eliana’s face as she leaned against her collarbone to coo at Mulder some more, the reality of which had her laughing as she continued to pat softly. “She’s got breastmilk all over her face.”

“She gave herself a good hair soaking,” Mulder wiped the matted, already sticky tufts of curls with a wipe until Eliana made another squawking sound that had him furrowing his brow. “Okay, princess, I’ll stop…but you’re gonna need a bath after you burp up all over Mommy.”

“At least she likes the bath now,” Scully could hear Eliana pull the puff of air into her mouth before the little, hollow sound followed and a burp came out like an audible exhale that only preceded a healthy toot against Scully’s palm. “Eliana Grace…”

“Okay, you can blame my side of the family for that,” Mulder knew that she had filled her diaper as Scully scowled from the smell as he reached for his stinky little girl. “My mom used to tell Samantha and me stories about how we would burp then fart, leading to the only logical conclusion of a soiled diaper nearly every time.”

“Have I ever told you that I love these stories from your childhood?” Scully bit down on her lip as she watched him carry Eliana toward the stairs, smiling back at her as he lingered there. “I wouldn’t mind hearing more about them…especially for her sake.”

“I’ll keep that in mind but until then…I’ll change Eliana and give her a bath,” Mulder continued up the stairs, talking and cooing to his noisy little redhead in his arms all the way up.

Before Scully could respond to him further, the house phone began ringing while the caller ID lit up and crept along the display with Bill’s phone number. She raised an eyebrow at the timing—too early for a landing, too late for a departure. The possibility of a delay was real as each hour of ongoing flurries of powdery drifts. Whatever the reason had been for his call, Bill wasn’t usually the type for small talk and phone calls were one of his least favorite activities. Mulder’s one-sided conversation with Eliana had her smirking as she reached for the receiver, clicking the talk button to stop the obnoxiously loud jingle in mid ring.

“Dana? Is that you?” Bill wasn’t waiting for her to talk first, his voice full of his usual level of frustration and gruff, muffled voices in the background.

“Yeah, is everything okay?” Scully gathered the nearly empty cup from the side table, meandering toward the kitchen as she held the phone to her ear, closing one eye as she strained to hear her brother above the peanut gallery of sound. “Do you need one of us to come to the airport or did the car rental have an SUV with great tires?”

“That’s actually what I’m calling about, Dana,” Bill sighed into the receiver, his voice carrying as Scully ran hot water into the cup, rinsing the residue while she glanced out at the low visibility through the dancing veil of snow. “Blizzard like conditions in the DC area have grounded all flights—leaving Tara and me unable to make it there for Christmas.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Scully’s shoulders slumped, adding this bit of news to the list of things that had gone wrong since December had begun, since the first flake of snow had touched the ground. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I wish I were making it up,” Bill hadn’t been the same since Maggie had passed away and disappointing his sister was on the short list of utmost avoidance items in spite of the lasting frustration with her mating partner in Mulder. “I turned on my phone this morning and saw that little face on my phone—and got even more frustrated we have to postpone.”

“Maybe we can plan for somewhere around the New Year?” Scully didn’t want Bill to hear the actual letdown bleeding through in her voice as she held in a breath and leaned against the counter, staring in the direction of the Christmas tree as the lights seemed to twinkle. “We can leave up the decorations, if so…”

“You decorated?” The surprised inflection in Bill’s voice was evident as he cleared his voice, letting out a laugh. “Really?”

“Mulder did…outside and inside,” Scully was proud of Mulder’s decorating even if he had broken an entire box of ornaments and nearly killed himself sliding off the roof as the smile curved across her lips. “He worked on the outside for most of the day yesterday to really usher in the Christmas spirit for all of us.”

“You’re not exaggerating Mulder channeling his inner Charlie Brown, are you?” Bill was already laughing at his own quips as the chortle left his mouth before he even finished the question, making Scully roll her eyes as she put the kettle onto the stove.

“Oh, that’s clever,” Scully notched a burner until it had the ring of blue underneath the brass kettle while she became fully distracted by the sound of Mulder’s feet coming down the stairs, mixing perfectly with the nonsensical babble from Eliana as her feet dangled in his arms. “I’d say it’s more like… _Christmas with the Kranks_.”

“ _Deck the Halls_ ,” Mulder chimed in, holding Eliana’s snow gear with one hand while her pink cheeks and bright eyes nearly made Scully run into the edge of the counter. “Matthew Broderick is my spirit animal.”

“You’re both addicted to Christmas movies and I don’t know which is more pathetic,” Bill was trying not to chuckle into Scully’s ear as she switched him to speakerphone while she watched Mulder wrestle with Eliana’s wildly kicking feet. “The fact that you’d make the comparison or the fact you’re enabling each other by doing it.”

Eliana cooed and shrieked within the same breath, grabbing onto Mulder’s face as he lifted her a little higher to face him. “Yep, Uncle Bill is lecturing all of us again…I’d scream, too, if I could get away with it.”

“Mulder,” Scully gave him that look and crossed her arms. “What are you doing?”

“Prepping the snow gear pile later so I don’t have to dig for it,” Mulder admired the death grip his daughter already had at two and a half months as he winced with her fingers squeezing his earlobe as she bobbed her head against his neck. “Stubble cannot possibly feel nice on your head, peaches.”

“As much as I’d love to continue this riveting discussion—Tara and I should probably get somewhere warm and get breakfast in our bellies. We’ll keep you both informed about New Year’s,” Bill cleared his throat as Tara’s sweet voice soothed behind him something hard to hear. “I know…I’m getting to that, you don’t have to rush me. Give Eliana our love, lots of hugs, and we’ll be there soon with gifts.”

“Merry Christmas, both of you,” Scully held the phone a little further out, making it almost equidistant between herself and Mulder, smiling as she ran her fingers through freshly washed, ginger curls. “Be safe.”

“We’ll see you soon,” Bill hesitated, an uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice as he continued. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be there tonight to see the decorations, Mulder. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Bill,” Mulder made eye contact with Scully as the precious, wide-eyed representation of just how much he loved the woman in front of him coiled her little fingers around his thumb, squeezing tight. “We’ll be here.”

Scully finished off the phone call with a couple of succinct farewells and rested the phone on the counter as the kettle began to whistle. Mulder watched her as she leaned onto the counter to retrieve a box of herbal tea from a shelf, shooting him a knowing glance as she realized he had purposely relocated her stash of tea to make her work for it. The smirk she received was worth the trouble as she yanked back a box of Moroccan mint and pulled two bags from inside. Mulder rocked Eliana and rubbed his fingers along the center of her back until the cooing began to run together, coming out like a hum. Scully turned around, cups in hand, as Eliana’s eyelids began to battle with gravity as her long lashes fluttered and fanned down with every closure.

“I guess we could put the ham back into the freezer?” Scully followed him into the living room, chuckling at the murmur of a happy baby beginning to fall asleep in her daddy’s arms.

“Or…I could make it anyway since I bought two and one is still in the freezer,” Mulder felt the light drop of Eliana’s head against his chest as he moved, signaling that she had given up the battle to stay awake. “That was fast.”

“You don’t play fair,” Scully grinned as she studied his movements around the bassinet, the careful part of his nature bubbling to the surface as he maneuvered Eliana onto the soft material that cradled her so often. “She had milk, a poop, a bath, and a backrub…anyone would be ready to sleep after that.”

Mulder glanced back at Scully as he swaddled Eliana in the bassinet, marveling at the wonder that was his daughter while she involuntarily yawned and scrunched her nose up at him. “I know I keep saying it but how did I participate in making something so beautiful?”

“I can’t stop thinking about what she’s going to look like when she reaches every milestone,” Scully sipped her tea as Mulder slid onto the spot next to her, pulling a blanket onto both of them as he reached for his own cup. “Each change her face will make—the little marks that might pop out and become prominent or the parts of our genetics that are most evident as she gets older.”

“I’m just glad that she isn’t nightmarishly screaming today,” Mulder held the cup at chin level, letting the steam waft into his face as the quiet of their snow bound home made every vertebrae soften in his back. “Although, if she were, it would be the cherry on the top of our crap filled sundae for the past few weeks.”

“I think she just knew that her parents were in desperate need of a reprieve today,” Scully laced her fingers with his underneath of the blanket and gazed at him, that adoration dancing in her eyes. “…but, I do have one question for you…and it’s an important one so I hope you’re prepared for it, Mulder.”

“Oh? What’s the question?” Mulder snuggled her close, kissing the apple of her cheek as she looked up at him.

“Do you want that ham in the oven today or tomorrow?” Scully smirked and planted a peck against his bottom lip, cloistering her own laugh against his skin.

“Ah, yes, the ultimate of inquiries,” Mulder shook his head and raised an eyebrow before stealing another quick, loving kiss from the redhead he had spent so many years treasuring with the pieces of his fractured, yet steadfast heart. “Lets make our own tradition tonight—you preheat the oven and I’ll figure out what we can put together for a little Christmas Eve platter for just us.”

_Maybe it’s not always about_

_Trying to fix something that’s broken._

_Maybe it’s about starting over_

_And creating something better._

-Unknown

6:45 PM

“How’s everything in there looking?” Mulder was perched on a stepstool in the archway, a string of lights and blue garland entwined together, dangling down from the center, his hands gripping along the framework. “Smells amazing…if that’s any indication of things to come.”

Scully had changed clothes, donning a red cardigan set with her jeans to work in the kitchen on their last minute array of dinner plans, the themed oven mit in her hand as she peeked into the oven. “It’s almost there…giving it another ten minutes to really finish up? How are you doing over there?”

“Fascinating the little ginger girl in her bassinet that hasn’t been sleeping for the last eleven minutes,” Mulder could see her feet kicking and arms waving around in a haphazard, almost frenzied way, her soft babbles muted against the sound of the Christmas music on the television. “I’m almost done with the last touches of making this place really look the part.”

“I’m wondering when we’ll wake up from this dream we’re in,” Scully had the plates pulled from the shelf, along with a modest serving tray that she had inherited from her mother with a holly and pine tree pattern across it. “She never goes this long without having a bout of horrendous fussiness to bring the stars down from the heavens.”

Mulder continued to adorn each hook with the string of alternating color lights until he came to the end of the string and wrapped it around a section of books on the center of an open shelf. “She really has been the most captivating baby and every day is a new adventure that I never realized I wanted so much.”

Scully met him at the bottom of his previously elevated stoop and wrapped her arms around him, seeking refuged in the expanse of his embrace. “A prayer answered…and that candle is still lit, shining into the dark as though it had always been there.”

“Her namesake,” Mulder rubbed the small of Scully’s back, glancing at their dozing babe in her cradle with the soft glow of the tree lights just above her head. “With those perfect cheeks and long eye lashes—every question was answered with her.”

They both inhaled a sharp breath and smiled in unison, calming a rush of emotions as a timer beeped in the kitchen, returning them to the normalcy of getting Christmas Eve’s dinner out of the oven. Life hadn’t always been kind and the onslaught of feelings that followed every wave of change had been slowly repairing their tattered souls. Mulder kept Eliana’s little cradle within view while they addressed the table, setting out their meal in the dim of soft light from the abundance of string lights. Scully had that little hint of a smile on her lips as she turned off the stove and brought glasses of hot tea to the table. It couldn’t have been more perfect as the smell of honey baked ham filled the room along with the candied yams—a familiar scent of Christmas that Scully missed and Mulder really wasn’t familiar with.

It was a version of perfection that they were ready for as they slid onto their chairs.

Perfection, along with their meal, would have to wait as a rolling trio of knocks at the front door pulled their focus away from each other as hands grasped a moment to silently revel in thanks.

Mulder cocked his head to the side, his palm covering the top of her hand while the other was reaching for his cup. “You don’t think—”

“Bill isn’t the surprising type, Mulder,” Scully put her napkin back onto the table, a hesitancy tugging at her spirit as she stood alongside him. “He’s gotten soft in the last few years but not that soft.”

The knocks hadn’t even tugged a cry from Eliana as they crossed the floor, checking on her only to find that the soft doze had become a heavy sleep in a matter of minutes. Scully adjusted the blanket across Eliana’s torso, covering her arms a bit better, then followed Mulder to the door as both of their anxieties seemed to climb and fill the air with fog. Their lighthearted mood had stalled, the feeling replaced with an odd sense of foreboding with a visitor on Christmas Eve in the dark on a cold, snowy night. Sure, a surprise from Bill and Tara would have been amazing but their realism was kicking in, swiftly reminding them of their track record for bad luck.

Mulder couldn’t take the self-inflicted suspense any further as he turned the handle and gave it a generous tug until the chill from outside stung at his skin, his mouth opening before his brain could fully react as he made eye contact with the person on his porch. “I didn’t hear an engine…Jesus Christ.”

Scully was equally taken aback at the sight of their visitor, snow on their shoulders, pants soaked to the knees. “Oh, my God.”

“I…uh…saw the bright lights and I, I hoped that…that it would be okay,” There was far more shivering than actual stammering as his voice cracked from the chill, dropping into a lower register as he cleared his throat. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go and…I didn’t know if I could come, but I had to try.”

“You walked here in the snow?” Mulder pulled him in by the zipper of his puffy jacket, pushing the door shut behind him, dusting off the snow in the process. “You _are_ a Mulder.”

There were bits and pieces of his genetics bleeding through as his height towered over the woman that carried him in her belly matching with his just above eye level glance with the man who called him _son_ before comprehension defined the word. Scully had tears in her eyes as she unfurled the sopping wet red and white scarf from around his neck, already picturing him as the wide eyed baby that she had held in her arms so long ago. Part of him was thinking of it, too, as an unspoken bond took over in a series of motherly actions as she had his wet gloves, scarf, and coat off in a matter of moments to hang dry. Scully may not have raised him but she wrapped him in a blanket, fed him, and clothed him when he was small—and her instincts were in full swing as she reached for the Indian pattered afghan from the easy chair.

“You’re soaking wet,” Scully had him wrapped in the well worn blanket in moments, gesturing to Mulder to put more wood on the fire as she led Jackson toward the source of heat, her tone softening with every word. “You need to get warm before your heart palpitates…and stops.”

“That’s really…morbid,” Jackson’s teeth chattered as Scully directed him to sit on the hearth, a weak grin involuntarily pushing forward as his backside instantly felt the direct heat against the stonework. “Oh, that feels better than I thought it would.”

Mulder pulled the mesh back into place and met the wandering glance from Scully as she wiped melted snow from Jackson’s hair. “Get used to it…this one will have a detailed conversation about the negatives of straining and why we should all be squatting instead of sitting when we defecate.”

“I could’ve been born into a normal family but, instead, I was born into the weirdest one,” Jackson muttered as the feeling returned to his extremities, chuckling in spite of himself as he held in the sadness for another moment. “I guess it prepared me for…”

“You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to say,” Scully didn’t want to chase him away as she watched the seventeen-year-old that never got to call her _mom_ struggle with every imaginable emotion while he thawed in front of a fire. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We didn’t want to push you…never have.”

“I wanted you to push,” Jackson was staring at his feet, the puddles of muddy snow gathering around his boots before seeping into the grayed shag area rug. “I thought having space would make everything so clear but all it did was make it all worse—and I’ve just been alone to deal with the thing flowing through my veins that keeps me from doing everything but the right thing.”

“You were never truly alone out there. Not for even a day,” Mulder was never good at the profoundly resonating declarations but the image of the sleeping baby in her bassinet had the sentimentality flowing as he looked at Jackson. “You carry a part of us with you every day of your life and you always will, whether you are right next to us or thousands of miles away.”

“Did you think of me at all? Did I ever matter to you?” Jackson’s frustration was understandable but unrestrained as he stared up at both of them as they stood, holding the edges of the blanket between his pale, long fingers. “Was there ever a time when you would’ve loved me the way that you so clearly love the baby in that cradle over there?”

“I have only thought about you every single day since the very first time I felt you kick in my belly,” Scully felt the wet tears along her cheeks as she poured her heart out, seventeen years of sadness draining out in a long, significant pronouncement. “You meant and still mean more than you could ever know—and I will always love you.”

“You were the furthest center of our world,” Mulder smoothed the mess of dark hair that resembled his own, studying the features of his son’s face as he saw a glimmer of change brewing in those eyes that rivaled his. “You’ll always be my son…even if you walk out and never come back, you’re always going to be loved.”

Jackson’s eyes fell toward the floor as the whirlwind of sorrows and regrets bit at the already raw attitude that he had before knocking on their door, wounding his already fragile ego as the parental attachment became real. “I don’t want to run anymore.”

“You don’t have to,” Mulder peeked at Eliana as she stretched and sighed in her bassinet, stretching her little fingers into the air before settling back down against her blanket. “You need dry clothes…and food in your stomach.”

“Let me put the kettle back on the flame to make some tea, you’re still freezing,” Scully pressed a hand against Jackson’s shoulder, squeezing gently, pulling his focus away from the floor just long enough to receive a nod as she turned. “Are those boots full of water?”

“Yeah, I know—get them off or I’ll catch my death,” Jackson mocked Scully’s more than apparent, light lecturing tone as he reached for the laces while Mulder disappeared up the stairs. “I didn’t really think this through.”

Scully was only in the kitchen long enough to get the burner going, walking out just as he gave the first boot a good yank, splattering water across the rug. “That just confirmed it…you certainly _are_ a Mulder.”

“Hey, you know I passed genetic muster enough to have two with me, Scully,” Mulder’s timing was perfection as he came back down the stairs carrying a little stack of his clothes, coaxing a laugh from her in the process.

“We’re trying to convince him to stay, you know,” Scully poked him in the ribs and turned toward the kitchen as she continued. “Not go running into the night because he’s already had enough of us over the banter that includes far too much information for anyone to hear.”

“Enough of me? Impossible,” Mulder extended the clothes toward Jackson, taking the wet boots in exchange to put them where they could dry properly. “I know you’re a touch taller than I am but you should be able to wear these just fine…there’s a bathroom just around the corner to change.”

“Thank you, they’re dry and that’s all I need,” Jackson put the blanket on the back of the chair and moved toward the bathroom, stopping near the tree to look back at both of them. “It’s crazy to think, though. I grew up wondering what it would be like to be here, with the people who couldn’t keep me, and I wondered if I would be able to hold back the anger over letting me go but the only thing I feel now in standing here with you is the gravity of your sacrifice…what you lost when I was no longer William.”

“None of that matters now,” Scully wiped a few tears that had escaped as his words touched the still healing gash in her spirit. “Go change, we’ll get a plate ready for you.”

There was something cathartic in Scully’s words for the three of them as Jackson nodded then disappeared behind the bathroom door, leaving Mulder and Scully to take the next step in a journey that had brought him home. So many problems had given them this one moment of happiness as they smiled at the opportunity to sit and enjoy Christmas with their first born. They were taking every second chance to the fullest as the lights twinkled again in a room already filled with so much fondness and altruism. Both rotated toward the swaying, dancing light of the fire as Jackson came back into the room, ushering in his drier figure as he placed the wet clothes on the hearth. He was welcomed into the kitchen, the size of Mulder’s socks, shirt, and sweats scarily perfect as he nearly slid across the floor.

“Smells exactly like Christmas,” Jackson inhaled a deep breath as Scully pushed a plate in front of him before handing him a napkin. “Exactly as it should.”

11:55 PM

Mulder awoke to the sound of Eliana fussing and Scully sliding out of bed to nurse, the first, real cries they had heard from her in nearly a day. He rolled onto his other side, watching the beauty that was Scully in the subtle glow of light peering through a section of unclosed drapes as she held Eliana close. Scully had one eye closed, her pale skin shimmering as she pulled the bathrobe around the other side of her body to keep the chills away. Mulder sat up and assisted in the endeavor, nearly capturing the attention of Eliana as she suckled in spite of the secondary need for sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Scully apologized and closed both eyes for a moment, adjusting her grip on Eliana as she wiggled both feet in the air. “She’s hungrier than I’d expected she’d be in the middle of the night.”

“Don’t apologize…she’s been the vision of perfection and barely made a peep for a day,” Mulder kissed the curve of Scully’s exposed shoulder and slid to the edge of the bed, pulling on a t-shirt as the chill in the air hit his skin. “Think I can sneak down the stairs without waking Jackson to stoke the fire?”

“It is very cold in here and you already make remarks about my feet under normal circumstances,” Scully pulled her lip back into her mouth and smirked behind the pose with Eliana’s fingers squeezing her index as she wiped a little dribble of milk from her cheek. “We’ll just keep at this until someone goes back to sleep.”

Mulder nodded, laid a peck on the top of Eliana’s head and let his bare feet touch the wood flooring. The chill that followed sent a shot of pure cold up his back, igniting his entire body in gooseflesh as he tiptoed down the stairs and toward the fireplace. Granted, everything had been converted to a central air system but they hadn’t been using it and the fire seemed to do the trick—but the snow had made that task a bit of a battle on a nightly basis, keeping the embers to a minimum until the morning refresh. Mulder had left the tree lit at Jackson’s request and, even though it was an odd one to make at his age, there was something sweet in the idea of sleeping in the room with the lights still on. Jackson was still asleep and had lost at least two of the blankets that Scully had insisted on him using, his figure only visible by a single foot hanging out and his face beneath the covers.

“There’s no denying his genetics,” Mulder whispered and carefully guided the steel cover open, pushing a few logs onto the dying fire.

“Dad?” Jackson’s sleep addled voice nearly dropped Mulder to his knees, the sound of that word carried a melody that he couldn’t quite describe.

Mulder pivoted on his heels, leaning against the hearth with a wedged piece of wood in his hands, reparation written on his face as he looked at Jackson sitting up on the couch. “I’m just putting some wood on the fire—you can go back to sleep. Sorry I woke you up.”

“I’ve been awake…thinking I’m going to blink and this is all going to disappear,” Jackson leaned against a pillow, taking in the scent of everything in a single breath. “That I’m going to wake up on a park bench again and everything will be gone.”

“The only thing you need be worried about getting woke up by is a crying baby or a smoke detector…if I cook breakfast,” Mulder had an awkward smirk as he pulled the mesh closed, the bright glow of the fire growing behind him. “Ahh, that’s going to feel good in about twenty minutes.”

“I thought you weren’t going to wake him up,” Scully had a knack for picking an odd time to meander down the stairs, a smile on her lips as she carried Eliana in a soft blanket, her little face barely visible as she came into view.

“A brain that never shuts off woke me up,” Jackson pulled his knees up, gathering the blankets around him like a cocoon peeking around at her from the mound of warmth. “Gotten more sleep than I have since the world fell apart.”

“I remember being your age and sitting in the living room with my sister while everyone else slept,” Scully swayed with Eliana in her arms, her little feet dangling from beneath the blanket as she wiggled her toes. “We’d giggle for hours until we’d realize we’d woken the entire house up. Dad would threaten us a dozen times that everything under the tree would be exchanged for coal—mom would admonish him and make cocoa until everyone went back to bed or the sun would rise.”

“Cocoa does sound like a plan,” Mulder didn’t wait for any requests and simply went to the kitchen while Scully laughed and approached the couch.

“Do you want to hold her?” Scully watched as Eliana looked at her big brother with a mystified expression just as he was grinning at her.

“I mean…if it’s okay?” Jackson felt the nerves jumbling in his belly as he looked up at Scully, the nodding betraying his questioning as she took a few steps forward.

“She’s your sister and she’ll let you know if she doesn’t like you,” Scully guided the overly awake baby into Jackson’s arms, helping him into the proper positioning that would give her a great view of him and everything else if she so choose, a goofy smile instantly appearing as she settled against him. “She’s a very good judge of character.”

Jackson laughed as she gripped his fingers and cooed at him, calming his anxiety in an instant as he sat Indian style with her in his lap. “Hi Eliana…I’m your big brother Jackson…or William depending on who you ask. One day, we’ll have a long talk about my name and why there are two of them. You’re too little to get it right now but, one day, you will.”

“I’m going to go make sure that he doesn’t burn down the kitchen,” Scully went toward the kitchen, rubbing her neck with the curve of her palm as she listened to Jackson talking to Eliana and the sweet cooing that followed.

“Now, that’s a sight I thought I’d never see,” Mulder had the wooden spoon in the pot, stirring at the chocolate mixture inside of it.

Scully leaned against the frame, adoring the sight of her first and second child within the same sphere, in spite of the strife over the last year. “I had always hoped I’d see it.”

“…You’re special, Eliana, and as you grow up, you’ll find out just how much,” Jackson had been in the middle of a story, the first signs of happiness working their way to the surface as she fiddled with the tips of his fingers. “And you won’t just have me to tell you about it…you have dad and mom to help you always remember the reason…”

_Epilogue_

Three years, Christmas Eve. The unremarkable house was far from empty and the smells of Christmas were flooding from every crack and crevice. Her curls had become longer, more pronounced, and had begun to match her mother’s deeper shades from the days when she was that age. She’d been smooched and coddled by every adult in the room in spite of wiggling free of every embrace to escape, to be near the front window. She’d been waiting for hours, for him…for his tall, lanky figure to arrive. Her freckles had begun popping up in the past six months along the bridge of her nose but were not dark, pronounced, or nearly as intense as Scully’s.

Not that Mulder would have cared. She was still the most beautiful little girl in his world.

“What are you doing, short stack?” Mulder was tugging at his sweater, itching it at the nape of his neck where the tag was. “Avoiding Aunt Tara and her rampant kisses again?”

“Waiting for Jackson,” Eliana grinned and bounced from the window to the door, pulling it open before her father could even protest fully.

“Mulder, put a coat on her!” Scully had eyes in the back of her head from the kitchen as _Rockin’ around the Christmas tree_ blared from a stereo in the corner. “She’s going to tumble into the snow!”

“On it!” Mulder went out after her, carrying her little, but hefty, snow coat with him as he found her leaning against the railing, smiling from ear to ear.

“He’s here! He’s here! Daddy, hurry up! He’s here!” Eliana shouted while Mulder struggled to slip her arms into the warm coat, the shrieks akin to a siren as she made the task harder.

Mulder turned his head as Scully had joined them on the porch, watching as an unspoken promise had become a tradition worth upholding on more than Christmas—of remembering their reason for each other, for family, for the season.

**Author's Note:**

> For Jen – I truly hope that this fulfilled every wish you had for a fic.
> 
> To Monika and Cate, you’re both amazing and I might’ve gone insane as usual if you two were not around to keep me from going off the deep end.
> 
> Quotes by:  
> E.M. Forster  
> Charlie Brown  
> And two Unknown Authors
> 
> References Made:  
> Christmas Vacation  
> Christmas with the Kranks  
> Deck the Halls  
> Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree (Brenda Lee song)  
> Borg references (Assimilate)
> 
> The Easter Bunny Was a Fox fic link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/18535834/chapters/43932745


End file.
